The Mary Sue Assassins
by Dorcas Meadowes
Summary: Dorcas... she said uncertainly. Do you think she looks a little...prettier? You don't think...that she turned into a Mary Sue? God knows what she'll do now! Pity, it was a good book...what was it called? Eragon. A simple mission in LotR turns complicated.
1. The Apprentices

**The Mary-Sue Assassins: Arya**

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* * *

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It did not matter that it was a special school; all of the students did not appreciate the amount of homework they were assigned. Sure, it was a special school purely to train fanfiction writers, but nonetheless, they had bookbags that were too heavy, teachers that were too strict, work that was too difficult, and lunch meat that was far too mysterious.

And they had gym class.

Their coach looked rather like a military sergeant, heightened by the strict way which she carried herself, her back straight and her shoulders extremely far back. Anna Ethelstan's dark hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, and the crease of her eyebrows and forehead made the expression on her face permanently severe.

Had she been in the habit of biting her lip or even smiling, the students would have seen rather horsey teeth that never became straight despite the braces that she had braved as a child. Her dark eyes surveyed the group with dissatisfaction. She picked up the whistle hanging around her neck, hiding her glee as she allowed it to shriek into the recruits' ears.

"Let's go, more push-ups!" she shouted, as the class collapsed on the grass and groaned. "Those Mary-Sues are perfectly athletic and you need to be just as good! Come on now, up you get!" she addressed a short little girl with dark hair.

"Here, Dorcas," Faelin muttered, handing her the fallen glasses lens with no small trace of amusement on her face. Her smile disappeared when the whistle shrilled in her ear.

The two had thought that since this was an academy about _fanfiction, _they'd be primarily on the computer. Such was true. They had flexed and stretched their fingers for hours upon end, had been tested on accuracy by being made to type in a pitch-black room with one hand tied behind their back, and one of the most hyped-up events of the school was the keyboard race, in which the group pecked out The Return of the King in record time.

They had also learned to write with a series of other tools including: a fountain pen, a scraper, and engraving tool, and a burned stick. However, these recruits were more than just writers; they were a police force, and they were trained like an army.

"Get to the field!" She finally told them, when she finally noticed how most of them had stopped doing any form of exercise whatsoever. She gave a small, decided, but nonetheless harmless kick to one of them. "And I'm timing you!" she yelled at the retreating group. She sighed internally as she watched them straggle along to the shooting area. Two of them would become her apprentices, and she dreaded having to whip them up into shape.

Faelin patiently waited for her friend to catch up, who muttered some excuse about her legs being short. Dorcas groaned partially out of exhaustion and partially out of apprehension—the day had suddenly got worse. Cardboard cutouts of supermodels were set up around the meadow, grinning obnoxiously and flipping their hair, standing perfectly in profile, ready to hurl a spell—or maybe a grenade.

Worse, strewn around the field were well-worn bows and economy-sized packs of arrows. Each student slung a quiver around their backs, adjusting the straps and grabbing fistfuls of arsenal to load their weapon with. Under the watchful eye of their instructor, they plucked at the strings to test if they would break.

"Oh, stop whining, Dorcas…it's only happened about twenty times before." Faelin said as Dorcas pricked her finger on an arrow once again. She narrowed her light blue eyes as she let her arrow fly. The tall blonde let out an impatient huff of breath as it kissed the side of its target—the heart at the center of the figure.

"Well, _my_ brother's not a Boy Scout…"Dorcas muttered rebelliously, reaching into her quiver.

Elizabeth gave her a sideways glance. "Yes he is."

"Yes, well…I'm not the one who goes on all of their trips, so there."

"Well, we've got to practice, anyway." Elizabeth said firmly. "Our exams are next week."

"Maybe we should just give up," Dorcas said, kicking the arrow stuck in the ground so hard that it snapped in two. "I'm obviously going to fail that part of the exam…"

"Oh, please."

"You _know _that I'm miserable at archery!"

"You aren't miserable at archery," Elizabeth said placatingly, squinting again as her arrow whizzed through the arrow. This time she grinned. Hit.

"Yes, I am!" Dorcas insisted, running to fetch her arrow which had magically flown about twenty feet away. Perhaps if she purposely tried to aim somewhere else, it would hit the right target…

"Dorcas! Careful!" Elizabeth cried, picking herself off of the ground.

"Sorry," Dorcas grinned, struggling to help her much taller friend.

* * *

"Identifying Mary-Sues is obviously one of the most important parts of your training," Anna announced. "So I expect you all to pass with flying colors. The first section will be on singing, since as you all should know, Mary-Sues are infamous for their beautiful voices." 

The students were seated at a very long table. They could make out a silhouette behind the screen, but could not tell what the singer looked like. When they had first complained about this, Anna had given a short, harsh, laugh.

"As if we would make it that easy for you!" she said. "Quit your complaining. This should be easy enough, people, we went over this!"

Dorcas Meadowes agreed. It _was _easy. The girl's voice echoed around the room like a siren, not as though anyone actually knew what the mythical creatures sounded like. You could tell the difference between a pretty girl and a Mary-Sue by their voice. Always.

She grinned self-consciously, her retainer catching the fluorescent lightbulb. She may be the worst in their physical education class, and she couldn't shoot Mulch Diggums in the back end if he was two centimeters away from her (not a pleasant experience), but her nearsighted eyes could spot a Mary-Sue a mile away.

Soon, a makeshift runway was erected; a girl with long, thick, red hair stepped onto it, the lights flashing on her quite becomingly. Her smile was mild and unpretentious, her green eyes showing nervousness and a spark of excitement as she twirled, the swathes of gauzy clothing swirling around her.

It made them sick.

"The nervousness worries me a bit," Faelin said in a low tone to Dorcas. "But it may be something to put us off the track."

"I'm scratching her off the list, personally," Dorcas said decisively. She dragged a red line through the name Lilliana Evans with relish. "Too tall for me."

"Everyone's too tall for you." Before her friend could take offense, Faelin nudged her as another girl sauntered onto the stage.

Her dress hung in all of the right places, and was simple but ornate, the lavender glitter sparkling and catching the lights, and it was off one of her creamy-white shoulders. The girl shook raven tresses out of her violet eyes, tiny purple flowers coming out of her hair as she caught the eye of the students—

Anna Ethelstan cast one look at Dorcas and gave her a quick smack across the face.

"Oi! Careful there," she said. "Don't get caught off your guard! Mary-Sues even in captivity are dangerous, you know." When the girl blushed slightly shamefacedly, the teacher softened a bit. "Here, take some." She said, shoving a tiny red pepper in front of Dorcas' face; the jalapeno burning off the roof of the mouth was enough to keep anyone alert. As soon as the woman wasn't looking however, Dorcas discarded it.

"That's the one, the Mary-Sue." Elizabeth said confidently.

"No, I thought it was number two, that girl—Clarisse." Dorcas argued, rummaging through their papers. She came up with the photo of the test subject, who was running a hand through her waterfall of golden hair, her forget-me-not eyes smiling at them.

"Her singing was slightly off," Elizabeth retorted. "This one, Moonlight or whatever, echoed around the room. A bloody siren."

"She _is _probably half-mermaid." Dorcas admitted, looking back at Moonlight's profile. "It says that she enjoys surfing, scuba-diving, boating, Olympic swimming, and—hold on, sky-diving?"

"Typical," Elizabeth said dismissively. "She's supposed to be brave. Look, that's the best we can do. Let's get out of here before her rank flowers make me throw up."

* * *

_The fumes are disgusting. They shouldn't be legal. Children could probably get a drug-induced high from them, _Anna thought savagely and she made her way around the room as though she were inspecting weapons during an army check-up. In a way, she was. 

The students were brewing a strong sedative that would tranquilize all canon characters and most Mary-Sues. Every field operative carried a vial. Partly a reflex, she patted her breast pocket to make sure it was there, taking it and holding it up to the light. She barely repressed a sigh. The liquid, which was supposed to be clear, odorless, tasteless, and undetectable, had congealed into an opaque yellow, mess. Disgusting.

"Professor Ethelsan, help us." A voice pleaded in her ear.

"No whining." She said brusquely, turning to the tall, blonde girl. "Faelin Haldthin, right?"

The girl nodded and as she turned to go to their lab station, appeared to make a mock-prayer, her friend giggling slightly, coughing as she inhaled the lavender smoke. At Anna's severe click of the tongue, the dark-haired girl slid her medical mask upwards and her goggles down. Honestly, these students were _far _too complacent about their safety, never taking any precautions whatsoever—

As though you did, Anna chided herself. She stared at the container at eye-level, noting the two clear layers with an internal groan. It was as she feared, a disgusting, tar-like black layer of liquid at the bottom with a milky white substance swirling above it. Then she grinned, which the two students took to be a good sign.

Far from it.

She plucked the flask from the counter, and walked up to the front of the room and in front of the window, where she was sure to get everyone's attention. The two girls exchanged glances, whispering excitedly about what the teacher was doing.

"Watch please," she instructed the students dryly. "This is a _perfect _example—"

She shook it and quickly threw it out the open window. Well, she thought it was open—instead, it shattered as an explosion shook the room.

"Not to do. You forgot the second step, didn't you? It said clearly not to cap the mixture, or else too much pressure would be built up. Basically, very dangerous."

It was a mistake at least one person made every year, but it nevertheless never ceased to annoy her. Just like all of their mistakes had, and these two—well, they made many mistakes. Anna kept her sigh until the last of the students left the room.

* * *

As soon as she was sure that the door was firmly closed behind the nervously chattering girls, she collapsed on her desk and massaged her temples. She hated this job, she really did. She had loved writing, she had loved training, she had loved policing. She thought that getting promoted would mean staying with her job but with more pay, but apparently, this was not the case. 

She, Anna Ethelsan, had a bloody _desk job. _

This was basically teaching a bunch of untrained recruits using a blackboardThis was standing in front of their overly enthusiastic, smarmy, smart-talking selves all day. This was sitting in the staffroom and inhaling the fumes of cigarette smoke, coffee, and microwaveable lunches. This was sitting at a desk for hours and grading the same paper, over and over and over. This was staying behind, _in the classroom, _while the kids that she had driven and encouraged and threatened and even began to _like _went on and accepted the missions she was dying to take.

This was _hell. _

_Shut up, _she told herself fiercely. _You wanted a promotion, and you got one. Now grade their papers. Number one is correct, number two—_her pen stopped over it. Well, it _was _a difficult one, choosing between those two girls. If she were a recruit, she would probably get it wrong. Should she give half credit? _No, _she decided. _Better for them to think of you as a slave-driver than an idiot who favors certain students._

Did she favor any students? Not really, she decided.

Anna was militaristic, strict, and scrupulously fair. No time for nonsense, survival of the fittest, etc, etc. She picked up the stacks of papers on her desk and began to stride to the main offices. Despite the fact that she got no field work nowadays, she had still made sure that she was physically fit. It would be far, far, too hypocritical to exert the students without being able to perform the feat—twice as well.

She waved away the black gas that the copy machine was belching, making her way to the filing cabinets. The hustle and bustle of the offices made her long even more for the old days in which she would be reporting to her commander to give him news of her latest mission…

"Anna! As beautiful as ever, I see." Frank told her, grinning cheekily from where he was sitting in front of a computer monitor.

"Shut it." She said irritably, nonetheless smiling as she wrenched open a drawer.

"I'm afraid that my advances are still rejected," he told her, mock-disappointedly. "But I see that you've gained some weight. Desk job do that to you?"

"And what exactly do you call that?" she pointed at the mahogany table on which his muddy boots were resting.

"That, my dear, is prime dirt from Mars." He said proudly.

"Mars? Has it changed much?" she asked, trying her best not to sound too interested.

"Far too warm. I've snagged two more specimens of scantily clad princesses for your darling students. They're in the lab."

"_And, _you gave me three sorceresses last week. What on Earth is going on?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. "You seem to be doing a lot of traveling for a clerk."

"Ah, but a _well-connected _clerk," he said, stung. "You know that I assign and log in all the missions."

"Yes, I do." She admitted grudgingly.

"And I give myself a little exercise every once in a while." He smiled at her, expectantly. After a while, the silence was too much.

"You expect me to beg on bended knee, don't you?" she sighed.

"No, my dear, that was enough." he said, putting his legs onto the office carpet and beginning to type energetically. "I'll give you an assignment in Middle-Earth. Plenty of Mary-Sues to catch and I expect that even _you _can catch them, despite the pounds you've been piling on."

"Kilos," she grimaced, lightening up at the prospect of field work. "Thanks, Frank."

Finally! Green meadows, towering forests, mountains, streams, fresh air…and not to mention a lot of pretty elven maidens to arrest. Her horsemanship had been suffering from want of practice lately, but she supposed that fleeing from arrows and Orcs would help. Remembering the thrill of the chase, Anna smiled. _This _was the work she was born for. With a spring in her step, she tossed the last of the manila folders into the cabinet and began to leave.

"Hold on, Anna, there's a catch—"Frank protested, catching her sleeve.

"No, Frank. No dates."

"I'm serious, Anna." This statement was enough for her to turn around.

"I can't just give you any old assignment." Frank told her, running a hand through his thick red hair. "If you aren't there for a quote unquote "purpose", then it means loads of paperwork for me. You have to still be teaching."

"I'll do whatever I have to to get out of the classroom, Frank."

"Good." He said, much relieved. He picked his feet off the table and squinted at the monitor, his hazel eyes squinting furiously at the myriads of names. "Here they are. Faelin Haldthin and Dorcas Meadowes."

"Fine." She said quickly. Quickly, a printer spat out forms for her to sign. As soon as she had crossed her last "t", Frank whisked them away from her and dumped them into the mail slot. She watched them fall into the Head Principal's slot with satisfaction until the two names hit her.

"Hold on—"She said suddenly. "You have to get those forms back."

"No can do, Anna," Frank told her cheerfully, pointing to a spot on the monitor. An electronic memo told her that her application had been approved.

"You don't get it—those two are very possibly the worst students in the class!"

"All the better to teach them then, eh?"

Anna groaned. "You are infuriating, Frank."

"I try, my dear. I try."

* * *

Authors' Notes: Yes, we know it's a bit confusing and very slow to get to the plot, but any questions can be submitted in reviews (hints heavily), and we promise we'll get back to them. The next update may be slow in coming as this is a joint story and the next chapter is Liz's. 

If you want to know what this is doing in Eragon Fanfiction, private message one of us; the explanation contains spoilers.


	2. The First MarySue

**The Mary-Sue Assassins: Arya**

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The corner of Anna's mouth twitched as she watched her students out of the corner of her eye. Well, perhaps this terrible situation had a tiny bit of a bright side. The two were certainly amusing enough; she supposed that she needn't have berated them about putting on their seatbelts properly—after all, they were nearly glued to the window.

Well, she admitted, Mount Doom was indeed quite an interesting sight. The heat and noise was terrifying, the river of blood red and oozing orange glowing hotter than hell. She cruised the ship onto a cleverly hidden platform in the rock and picked up her pack, snapping her fingers in front of her apprentices'—oh, what a horrible word—eyes.

"Let's go." She snapped. Their eyes as round as saucers, they numbly picked up their enormous hiking packs and filed silently out of the ship. What a refreshing change, quiet.

Barely before they could blink, she scrambled up the cliff without her equipment and glared at them as they hurried to clip the safety harness to themselves. Impatiently, though secretly admiring their meticulous, fussy, way of ensuring their safety, she threw down the rope and prepared to haul them up if necessary.

A terrible yell rent the air as something that looked horribly like a human finger flew into the lava below. Anna, her lightening-quick reflexes kicking in, whipped around to see Gollum and Frodo tussling on the cliff, locked in mortal combat for nothing but a band of gold metal. The gray, repulsive, Gollum gave her a tiny nod, and when she nodded back, he turned immediately back into the clawing, spitting, hissing creature with a disturbing, maniacal glint in his eye. Gollum wasn't really a bad sort, once you got to know him, but he had an irritating habit of picking your pocket.

Finally, the girls clambered onto the cliff, panting for breath.

"Doesn't—it all—fall apart—after this?" Dorcas asked timidly, looking around at the enormous cave.

"You've been watching the movies." Anna accused. "And no. Though we'll want to get out of here quick in order to avoid the battle."

"But where are we going to? And how?"

"Using those." Anna said, pointing down the mountain.

The girls' eyes were as round as saucers. Tethered to a jagged rock were three beautiful horses, pawing at the ground impatiently.

"So—Ms. Ethelstan?" Faelin asked, as they began to secure themselves to the mountain and rappel down. "What are we doing here?"

"_I'm _making my way down Mount Doom." Anna said shortly, pushing herself off of the rock with her feet. "_You _seem to have your head in the clouds."

"Why did you bring _us?_" Faelin wanted to know. "You hate us—"

"The truth?" She asked abruptly, stopping at a small cliff and gesturing for them to do the same. "I didn't have a choice. I hate my job, I really do, and I needed field work for a change. Unfortunately, I also had to teach. And I had the incredible luck of taking you two."

To her surprise, the two did not seem to be hurt or affected at all by this. Shrugging at one another, they instead redoubled their efforts as if to prove her wrong. This resulted in an unofficial but nonetheless present race down the mountainside.

The most galling thing of it all?

They _tied. _

Anna, however, was able to salve her ego as, smirking, she watched Dorcas attempt to scramble over the side of her much-taller horse, who seemed to sense that she had no experience whatsoever. This wasn't true, as all of the students had taken _some _riding lessons, but they hadn't gotten very seriously acquainted with their equestrian friends; only the students in the advanced placement classes and those who decided to major in historical fiction and/or fantasy ever did. Anna was one of those in the former category, and had been one of the lucky few who had a truly developed and well-rounded education. She had learned how to fly a rocket, had developed some small magical powers, knew how to disguise herself with the best of them and more—sadly, people like her normally ended up teaching.

"Really, though." Faelin shouted, as their horses broke into an unexpected gallop. "Why are we here?"

"Mainly Mary-Sue hunting."

"Hunting?"

"What happens to them afterwards?" Dorcas asked, her eyes wide. Faelin elbowed her, and she dropped the reins in surprise; the mild-mannered mare she was astride gave a small snort of relief. Dorcas gave her a timid little pat, which seemed to mollify her a bit.

"You've seem them before." Anna said easily, reaching into one of the saddlebags for a quick snack. "They're used to pair up students for training, some research about the nature of Mary-Sues—no drugs, you silly girls, they still are semi-human, despite their flatness—things like that. But sometimes we must just dispose of them."

"D—dis_pose_ of them?" they asked in unison, horror evident in their voices.

"Wait a moment." Faelin said, stopping her horse. "We can't—we can't—_kill _anything."

"I notice that neither of you are vegetarians…"

"But that's—different! It's like killing a human!"

"And if they transferred the disease to you?"

There was silence.

"This is what we do. Do you know why all field operatives have laptops with them, and that the homepage is the Fanfiction site? If I encountered a Mary-Sue, I would sedate her first and run several tests on her, bloodwork, that sort of thing. Then I would be able to write a chapter with her in it in Document Manager, and then, I just delete it. Poof! Mary-Sue gone."

"That's awful!"

"Or you can just drive a rapier through their hearts." Anna shrugged. "One way is less messy, and requires less clean-up work afterwards. And let's admit it, how many times have you burned up manuscripts or deleted them off of your hard-drive? It's as if your characters had never existed. So, it's the same principle."

The two exchanged looks. It had to be better than stabbing someone.

* * *

They had set up the camp, no easy task, especially with each of them assigned to the "wrong" jobs. For instance, Dorcas was terrified of striking matches, lighting candles, or anything of that sort, and only felt really secure when the blazes were contained within a nice collapsible grate. She was assigned to starting the fire.

Meanwhile, Faelin was struggling with the various potions and concoctions that were _apparently _supposed to make sure that they would survive. Luckily, no more explosions occurred from her attempt to brew sedative, but there were several accidents when she tried to cut up roots and things, something she had little patience for. Plus, using the cryptic manual, she had to set up the portal, which would take them to a safe place.

However, Anna was doing just fine with her self-given task—to set up the tent. The teepee was standing proudly over the plains of Middle-Earth while she eyed the two critically, wondering how they would ever get through the night.

Nonetheless, a latrine was dug, powder dinners made and stuffed down their eager throats, and night-watch shifts arranged with little complaint. Though the night was tranquil, Anna was altogether pleased with the fieldwork thus far. She hadn't really needed action, though it would've been nice—what she was really aching for was to get out of that awful classroom.

Despite the fact that the girls were assigned to shifts, she allowed them to sleep as she sat outside the tent and just watched the landscape. The next morning, the two stumbled out of their tents, expecting a sure reprimand from their teacher. Instead, they found her sitting up and alert, peering through a pair of oversized binoculars.

"What is it, Ms. Ethelstan?"

"Here, take a look." She said, strangely without any brusqueness in her voice, handing them to Dorcas. As she squinted out into the distance, Faelin stole a look at their instructor. She was tightening her ponytail, and patting herself down as if checking her equipment, a spark beginning to light up her eyes. So, she was human then. They had been wondering…

The figure that Dorcas saw was slender and rode her horse with ease and the posture of an accomplished rider. Strangely, nine other riders rode behind her, all dressed in cloak and equipped for a long journey. Her pulse quickened in suspicion as she adjusted the range of the binoculars. The rider was obviously a woman, from the way her clear and melodic voice echoed as it sang. Though it was not at all unusual for women to ride astride, it was strange that someone of her youth rode at the front. A gleaming sword was in its scabbard at her side, a quiver resting at her back. As an elf murmured something to her, she threw back her head with its waist-length chestnut hair and laughed, a wild but musical sound.

Her face was pleasing, with a flawless complexion and pale pink lips. Her best feature were by far her eyes, which showed a sharp intelligence, ready wit, and a shrewd battle sense. This was clearly not someone to mess with.

Dorcas drew her breath sharply and handed the viewer to Faelin, who began to examine the group.

"Ms. Ethelstan, is it a Mary-Sue?"

"Obviously. Get your equipment ready and hurry about it so that I can check it before they arrive."

"Good Lord!" Faelin exclaimed, nearly dropping the binoculars. "That can't be the Fellowship—no, it is, I see the nine riders!"

"Ten." Anna corrected. She doused the fire with what remained in their tea-kettle and ducked into the teepee. Dorcas followed her, her mouth open in surprise.

"But that's messing with canon!" she spluttered finally, following Anna's orders to begin packing up their things and to hurry up at it girl, we haven't much time!

"It happens."

"What do you mean, it happens?"

"They're all men, or at least male, and that makes them weak to Mary-Sue charms." She said disapprovingly, beginning to roll up their sleeping bags. "Pathetic if you ask me, but that's the way life is."

"But they will snap out of it once they realize it's a Mary-Sue, won't they?" Faelin asked hopefully, rolling up the sleeping bags in record time. All together, they pulled the sticks holding up their tent and climbed out of the tangle of fabric once it fell, folding it up hastily and clumsily as they began to hear the chatter and song of the group.

"Not until she's good and sedated, they won't."

"So what are we going to do? We can't fight against ten people!"

"Of course we can. Hand me my bag, will you?" Anna ordered, watching the group warily as she rummaged through the duffel. An uncharacteristic grin lit up her face as she brought up something long and black—a sniper rifle. When the girls saw this, they knew what to do, even if they had only ever gone through the procedure within classroom walls. They took the vials of sedative Faelin brewed the night before and began dropping the liquid carefully, ever-so-carefully, into the dart-like bullets. Wordlessly, they too, got out their weapons, looking a little nervous.

"I want us to pick off Legolas first." She instructed, pressing her eye to the scope. "He's the one with the long-range bow, so he'll be the most dangerous. Which one should we get next?"

"You're asking _us?" _

"Of course I am, it's your first mission, no?

They sat in silence for a moment, but it was only a moment before Faelin responded.

"Probably Gandalf next, because he's the one with magic."

"But he's old, so he'll go down quickly." Dorcas chimed in. "And I'll get Aragorn at the same time, because he's riding at the back of the group. The stragglers will be easy to pick off. The two of us could split the hobbits, they'll be pretty easy to get…"

"Gimli and Boromir first, they're the ones with the quick temper." Anna reminded them. "Then, shoot the Mary-Sue with these."

She dropped what looked like tiny capsules into their hands. They decided not to question her, as the nine—er, the ten—riders were beginning to look closer and closer, and they had to get to work. Ducking behind the rocks, they took aim—and all hell broke loose.

* * *

Legolas had been conversing quietly with Caelama Palantír in his native tongue, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back. Not wanting to inspect it and risk looking undignified, he ignored it, watching her lovely mouth form a response to his story. Though she wasn't boring, her voice was so musical, and it reminded him of Elven lullabies that his mother used to sing, and he found himself getting very sleepy— 

Thud. Caelama shrieked as the elf toppled off of his horse. She leapt off of her own white stallion and came to his aid, calling for the rest of the Fellowship to do the same. They were all bent over his slumbering body and were all quite distracted, yelling, murmuring, or shaking him alternately. This, of course, completely mangled their theory about the stragglers, but Dorcas noticed that Gimli, too, was bending over to examine the Rider, despite his supposed dislike of all elves—now, who could miss a target like that, even her?

Meanwhile, deviating somewhat from the plan, Faelin reloaded her weapon and began using some to dispatch some of the horses, who soon drifted off to sleep standing up. This earned her a small nod of approval from their teacher, who was aiming for the hobbits. If the riders spotted their assailants and decided to pursue them, they would be hampered by their horses.

With relative ease, the entire group was snoring, except for the Mary-Sue. Caelama strung her bow and prepared to let it fly, screaming defiance at the figures in the distance.

"Load the capsules, girls, and quickly!" Anna cried, letting loose hers. While they were fumbling with their ammunition, they watched as the tiny pill exploded into a tangle of ropes, wrapping themselves around the Mary-Sue, who despite her natural grace, fell onto the sleeping body of Frodo, who was still clutching the Ring, even in slumber. However, she was able to reach her dagger, and seemed ready to slash them, when the students thought to fire their weapons and that successfully downed her.

"Excellent work, team." She told them, with a hint of pride in her voice. "Let's ride down there and get her before she thinks of some way to escape."

* * *

The Mary-Sue was not looking happy at all. 

How could she? She was tied onto an uncomfortable chair in an uncomfortable position, and Legolas was goooonnne…

Despite her best efforts to claw at them, scream in their ears, and slit their throats with her dagger, she was _still _a prisoner. Still, she had done her fair bit of damage. The unpleasant woman with dark hair and a sharp voice had cuts all over her face now, and her apprentices were looking very cowed.

"What is she, girls? What type of specimen?"

"Judging from her conservative figure," the short one said, in a small voice. "And the defiant stance, I'd say that she's Feminist!Sue, but you can't be sure."

"No, I think you're right." The tall one agreed. "She's got a sword _and _a dagger _and _a bow. Plus, her ears are normal, not pointy at all, and elves are normally the slightly more demure ones. She might be Warrior!Sue, though."

"You two go set up camp again. We leave in the morning, we need to bring this one to the Academy."

Caelama glared at her captors.

"Dur goth, amarth es ambar!"

"Yes, yes, shut your trap, your author doesn't know proper Elvish, so don't try to impress me with all that drivel. I'm going to run some tests on you, and you'd better like it."

The Mary-Sue spat in her face.

_Damn, I knew we should've gagged her, _Anna glared as she wiped the spittle with her sleeve. Just to be spiteful, she chose the largest and most blunt needle and attached it to the syringe, jabbing it into the girl's lovely, flawless, skin and watching as the blood began to fill the vials.

Little did Anna know that the saliva had entered the cuts in her skin and had begun their exploration of her veins…

* * *

**Authors' Notes**: Yes, we know it's a bit confusing and very slow to get to the plot, but any questions can be submitted in reviews (hints heavily), and we promise we'll get back to them. Though it may be confusing thus far, we promise that we _have _put it in the correct category. Those who want an explanation can review or private message us. 

Thanks, and please make our day!


	3. Begonias

**The Mary-Sue Assassins: Arya**

**

* * *

**  
"That was absolutely brilliant!"

"I can't believe that I actually met Strider! And shook his hand!"

"Definitely far better-looking than in the movies."

"If that is possible, of course."

The two were giggly as schoolgirls (which of course they were), giddy and practically stumbling, their eyes alight. The lanterns banged against their sides as they ran back to the glow of camp in the forest of Buckland, their laughter echoing in the darkness. They were so caught up in their own excitement of what they had done (Imagine! The inn in Buckland!) that it didn't even occur to them how late it was.

"And _what—_"a soft and deadly voice said behind them. "Do you think you're doing?"

Like a reflex, the two whipped around. When she faced their enemy, Dorcas clenched a sharp dagger in her hand, a gasp catching in her throat—she really hated fighting. Meanwhile, Faelin already had cocked a gun at what she guessed was the head of the stranger. The intruder only smiled, and the sight sent shivers down their spines.

"Nice try." The voice said again. "But that won't work on me. I'm more trained." The figure stepped into the dim light of the discarded lanterns.

"Oh, it's just you." Said Dorcas, relieved as she stuck the knife back into her belt.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you." Anna Ethelstan said, her arms crossed as she surveyed her two students. "You are in a very sticky situation."

"We didn't know we had a curfew." Faelin said immediately.

"And we knew that the Ringwraiths wouldn't harm us because we had our proper Fanfiction Academy authorization." Dorcas finished. Anna ignored them and their smiles; they had obviously rehearsed this, thinking to trip her up.

"But you went into town and into the inn." She continued coldly. "And you say that you met up with a canon character."

"Well, yes, but we met up with Gollum and Frodo before, and—"

"You blithering, stupid, little girls!" Anna shouted. "We didn't actually contact them then—we didn't speak with them, and we _certainly _didn't shake their hands!"

"But—"

"To do so is to completely destroy the storyline, especially considering that Frodo and his friends were in the tavern that night!" Anna looked ready to wrench her hair out in her exasperation and anger. "You stupid, stupid, girls! The entire book could have been ruined! Imagine, please, what would happen had Strider been distracted and had not noticed Frodo missing after his song?"

The two looked sufficiently cowed, and also sufficiently frightened. Neither of them had intended to destroy one of the greatest works of fantasy of all time. Anna's heart softened, but only for a short moment. They needed to realize the seriousness of their situation.

"We'll think about what we can do to fix it in the morning." Dorcas said in a very small voice.

"Nonsense." She said brusquely. "We are going to check it out right now, and do damage control if necessary. I daresay that Frodo and his lot have dealt with idiots like you have learned how to improvise."

* * *

They had dealt with the situation promptly, and the two promptly collapsed into their pup tent from pure exhaustion. Though, as Anna had predicted, "Frodo and his lot" had improvised and the whole situation was rectified, they were forced by their teacher to undergo all of the customary paperwork for a so-called "Breach of Security". She insisted that would make them learn. It did—their hands were still twitching from the work as they fell asleep. 

Anna knew all of this because she had watched them from the open flap of their tent, her eyes softened as she watched them sleep.

When the sun rose, she roused them and fed them breakfast—she had cooked for the entire team for once, an indulgence she never gave to her students. Then, without a word, instead of making them ride their horses back to Mount Doom, she beckoned them to throw the gear towards the portal that would take them to the ship.

Unbidden, the thought came to her as she noted the new lines that sleep deprivation had given to their faces. _Poor little things._

And then—

_What the hell am I thinking? The little chits deserved what they got! And it's the only way they'll learn! Are you growing soft, Anna?_

That last statement bothered her beyond all imagining as she steered their ship back to base.

* * *

Right after they returned from the ship, their classes with Ms. Etheltsan resumed. Now that the term was over and she had (reluctantly) taken on two apprentices, they took a lot of private lessons with her. One of those lessons was sailing.

"She's walking a little oddly, no?" Dorcas had muttered as they stumbled, air-sick, from the spacecraft. Faelin only nodded, looking slightly wan from the trip. Anna Ethelstan had walked lightly, fluidly, like a gymnast.

"Probably just experience. That's why she's not staggering like us." Dorcas mumbled to herself, convinced by her own explanation. Faelin thought differently, however. Their teacher had always walked with a certain grace in her long and purposeful strides, but Fae noticed how carefully Ms. Ethelstan stepped on the manicured lawns of the schools, and this time, she actually _avoided _trampling the flowers.

The girls were a bit confused, to say the least.

They had scrambled back down the mountains with their packs, the Mary-Sue conveniently floating along beside them. _The perks of being a field operative included the magic you learned_, thought Anna. Never in a million years would she enjoy carrying the monster. _Almost ruined the greatest fiction of its time, she did._

They loaded their packs into the hold of the boat, settling the comatose elf in the cabin. The girls began to pull out their lunches while Anna set the boat sputtering out of the dock.

"Dorcas," called Faelin to her friend in the back of the boat, "Ham and cheese, or turkey on rye?"

"Either, Fae," she yelled back. "But ask Ms. Ethelstan what she wants first. I don't fancy being whipped or something if she turns out to be allergic to something we give her."

"She won't whip us!" Faelin laughed, but nonetheless, she got up, _just in case_. She heard an unfamiliar voice drift back from the front of the boat, and for a split second her heart stopped. The Mary-Sue!

The music was hauntingly beautiful, reminding her of a time gone by, never to return. Tears welled up in Faelin's pale blue eyes as she sunk down to the deck of the boat, sitting cross-legged. The sounds of the sapphire-blue waves gently slapping the sides of the boat and the voice's sweet melody, changing now to happy trills, immediately put her into a content mood. A sleepy smile stretched across her face; it was so nice to just sit and listen, and to feel the sun's rays shining on her skin…

Dorcas heard the music, too. Fortunately, she had more sense than her friend and stuffed her fingers in her ears, taking one hand out only to snatch up a pepper and stuff it into her mouth. Running to find Faelin, she nearly tripped over her friend as she headed to the boat's controls. Faelin had her eyes half closed and was swaying to the melody. Dorcas kicked her hard in the hip.

"Get up! The Mary-Sue must be loose!" That snapped her out of it as well as a bucket of cold water would have. They ran pell-mell to the prow of the ship, where a woman stood, her dark hair unbound and whipping about her lovely face in the sea breeze, the melody traveling along with it. Faelin aimed a kick not at all far from where Dorcas had given her one, in the hopes that the song would stop and that a shriek would replace it.

The woman's good reflexes caught Faelin's foot and sent her sprawling to the deck. Dorcas snatched up her friend's gun and fumbled with it in the hopes that it would load, screaming something about freezing.

Anna turned to them with a decidedly annoyed look on her face. "I was just getting to the good part, too!"

Two jaws dropped and four eyes widened in shock.

"That…that was _you_?" cried Dorcas disbelievingly, her eyes wide.

"Of course it was me," came Anna's irritable reply. "Who else would it be?"

The two just stood (well, one just sat) dumbfounded. What had come over their instructor? Not only was the haunting melody coming from her, her hair was not in its strict bun. Clearly something was wrong.

"Take your fingers out of your ears so you can hear me properly. I'm not that bad. And where's my lunch?"

The girls hastened to obey, Dorcas hauling Fae up, but they were still more than a little confused as they retreated back to the other side of the ship.

"Oh yes, and no turkey or ham for me, girls!" Anna's voice called back. "I'm a vegetarian, you know!"

* * *

Begonias. 

A week after their excursion into Middle-Earth, there were _begonias_ on Anna Ethelstan's desk. Since when did the callous instructor decorate with ruffle-y, fussy, rose-like, _girly _flowers? In fact, since when did she know what flowers were?

And, to top it off, they were pink. The girls could only gape open-mouthed at the way they had been so tastefully arranged in a Swarovski vase catching the sunlight into a little pool on top of the paperwork.

"Aren't they lovely?" Anna asked Dorcas and Faelin a week after the Middle Earth job. All they could do was stare at her.  
"Um…They're…" Dorcas struggled for words to convey her surprise.

"Beautiful," Finished Faelin with a withering glance to the perplexed individual who called herself her partner.

"I did always like pink…" said Anna, looking fondly at the blooms. Suddenly, she snapped upright with a violent shake of her head, not unlike a dog. The two, their little fights forgotten, glanced at one another. Was their teacher returning back from her excursion in the land of cotton candy and ponies? Ah well. It was bound to happen eventually.

"Right. Well, seeing as you two performed quite well on our little excursion—"

"_Well?" _enquired Faelin, if an inquiry could actually be made while choking. "We nearly destroyed The Lord of the Rings!"

"Ah," smiled Anna with an uncharacteristic wink. "But we didn't, did we?"

The two thought it over for a few minutes, shocked beyond measure—had all that paperwork been for naught?—and then came back to earth long enough to decide that their instructor was indeed correct.

"I've handed in your paperwork, and my dear friend Frank is working out all the technicalities." A distant look crept into her eyes as she said "Frank."

Rather than bring it up, the girls shared a look of utter amusement. Ah, their teacher in love…that might explain it.

"Ms. Ethelstan," asked Dorcas carefully, lest the _real _Anna jump out of those soft, doe-like eyes, "What are the technicalities for?"

"Why, you're becoming my apprentice, of course! And you too, Faelin! You performed so well under pressure on our jaunt to Middle Earth that I have decided that you should come into the field with me on a regular basis." She gave a final jerk of her head that settled it.

Faelin's eyes opened wide and Dorcas's smile stretched across her face as they took this knowledge in. They were going to be real Mary-Sue hunters, defenders of literature! Shrieks of delight filled the office as hands were held and feet danced in circles.

"And what's our first assignment, Commander Ethelstan?" Dorcas collapsed in giggles on top of Faelin.

"Suit up, ladies!" Anna stood from her desk in a graceful gesture and a flourish of hands. "We're going to Alagaësia!"

Back to square one. "Where?" Dorcas asked blankly.

"Alagaësia, my dears! Land of dragons and magic and puns stolen from movies!" Anna clapped her hands in delight.

The dancing has stopped now. "Puns…? From…movies?" Faelin was confused all over again. It was not a very good feeling.

"Apparently I'm apprenticing a parrot." Anna rolled her eyes, and the girls caught a glimpse of their old instructor under the frilly mask that was this cheerful woman. "Yes, movie puns."

"You've been there?"

"Of course I have! Lovely landscape…this 'Christopher Paolini' has created a potential Mary-Sue as a side plot, and we need to dispose of her right away. With a name like Katrina, what do you expect?" She grumbled under her breath.

"Movies? Isn't that copyright infringement?" Dorcas and Faelin hadn't yet moved off this topic.

"Yes! Movies!" Anna groaned. "Ever seen 'Blazing Saddles?'"

The girls shook their heads.

"Well…someone says 'We don't need no stinkin' badges!' at one part in the movie," Anna explained with practiced patience. "And another character in Eldest (That's his next one, still in the works) says 'We don't need no stink' _barges_!'"

The humor was lost on her young apprentices.

"Ah well, never mind. Now, for your briefing."

Anna launched into her plans, how they would capture this wench named Katrina in order to keep the story on a direct path. The girls sat, dutifully taking notes as they were taught (in short-hand), Dorcas with a note pad balanced precariously in her lap and Faelin with a PalmPilot.

They had a large and unsettling feeling that this was _not_ going to be as easy as it sounded.

* * *

Two days and several hours later, they were totally packed and ready to go. It was four o'clock in the morning and the two rubbed sleep from their eyes. It had become a game to watch the other yawn and try not to themselves. They were both losing. 

"Hop to it ladies!" enthused Anna, her dark eyes sparkling. How was it possible that she was this awake? Then again, the girls could hardly sleep the night before for excitement. They trudged up into the slight aircraft, bent nearly double under the weight of their packs and equipment.

"How lo-o-ong will this trip take?" Faelin rubbed her eyes as a yawn dragged out the second word.

"Ah, only a few hours, girlies. None of you get airsick, do you?"

Dorcas miserably raised her hand. Anna smiled with a motherly look – something that would have been impossible not so long ago. What was _up_ with her?

"No worries. There are airsick bags in the back of the plane." Anna grasped the small girl's arm and guided her to the rear of the craft.

Faelin poked around a bit in the cockpit. There were many more dials and levers to pull than a standard airplane. They had learned the simple controls to flying machines in their flying elective, but this was much different than anything she had ever seen!

"That," said Anna as she came up behind the freckled girl, "Is because this is for traveling otherworldly. Your elective only taught spatial-travel for Earth. A first-year thing." She smiled.

"Oh," replied Faelin innocently, rather disturbed that Anna knew what she was thinking. She fell into the seat behind her and strapped herself in while Anna checked all the meters and gauges. She could hear Dorcas walking around in the back—or perhaps pacing around in the back.

"You'd better sit down!" called Anna. "It's going to be a bumpy ride!" Faelin groaned at the horrible cliché. She could here Dorcas do the same.

And indeed it would be a bumpy ride. But that would start _after_ they landed.

* * *

There they were camped in the middle of a beautiful, rugged, landscape which looked rather disturbingly like Middle-Earth. They should've been slumbering peacefully, what with this beautiful weather and the utter darkness of night undisturbed by electric lights, but— 

"Fae?" A prod. Still, the blonde girl slept on, muttering incoherently in her sleep.

"Faelin." A sharp jab at the side. The girl rolled over, murmured something, and clutched her coverlet even closer to her.

"_Faelin_ _Haldthin!" _Ice cold water drenched the slumbering girl, who shrieked and looked decidedly awake now.

"Oh yes!" Dorcas punched her fist into the air. "I _love _magic!"

"Dorcas." A muffled voice came from under the thick, emerald-green coverlet. "I am going to kill you."

Immediately, the impish smile disappeared from Dorcas' round face as she shoved her glasses onto it. "Listen, Fae. I think something's _seriously _wrong with Instructor Ethelstan."

Faelin sat up. She had been thinking about it all night before finally falling asleep, figuring that the changes were positive and that there was nothing to be done about them anyway. She informed her friend of her findings rather irritably. Still, Dorcas rattled on, pulling a windbreaker over her pajamas as she spoke.

"She actually brought me to the back of the ship to recover from air-sickness, and _beforehand, _when we went to Mount Doom, remember? She said I just had to deal with it, and let me throw up all over the back." Apparently, the unjustness and cruelty still rankled within the short girl. Faelin would've stifled a giggle were she in a better mood and not rudely and coldly interrupted in her sleep.

"Yes, yes, I do know about this, I am your partner you know." Faelin said shortly as she wrung out her straight blonde hair.

"And she's let her hair out!" Dorcas ended.

"Actually, she's done something with it." Faelin said matter-of-factly.

A blank, and then a horrified stare. "What'd you mean?"

"I _mean _that while I was handing her dinner in last night, by the lake, remember, she was staring at her reflection and fixing her hair into a French twist, and then into elf knots."

"Dear God."

Silence.

"What's an elf knot?"

"Dorcas, that is besides the point." Faelin rolled her eyes. "The point is, when did Anna Ethelstan ever want to do anything with her hair besides put it into a bun?"

"It could just be nothing."

"And the way she decorated her desk with begonias!"

"A lot of people do."

"Pink begonias."

"Yes, but she said—"

"And _then, _the singing! Her voice was like a bloody siren, Dorcas, a siren!"

A pause.

"We need to go check on her."

They shoved themselves into their shoes and jackets and fairly raced to the larger tent, skidding in their tracks just before the closed flap.

"No tools necessary, my friend." Dorcas said grandly, indicating the pot that Faelin had inexplicably brought with them. She rolled up her sleeves.

"Easy, Dorcas." Faelin warned, putting her hand out to block her partner. "No magic. Time for me to use a trick I learned while I was on a Boy Scout trip."

Dipping her fingers into oil and running her fingers down the zipper, she pulled it and it gave way without a sound. Dorcas murmured something about Boy Scouts being rather devious while Faelin shushed her, but the prone form that was their teacher did not stir.

The woman's features had a peaceful look to them that were almost never there when she was awake, and her shapely form moved up and down with her quiet breathing.

Now, neither Dorcas or Faelin were catty people and nor did they have an obsession with people's random body parts. When both of them made this observation about their teacher's physique simultaneously, they looked at one another in alarm, and then went back to their watching. This time, however, it was with a cold and calculating observation of a scientist rather than of two rather weirded-out girls.

"Creamy white skin. Completely flawless." Dorcas said.

"Possible, but she said that she tans easily in the hot sun." Faelin responded. "Long, dark hair."

"It was long and dark before, but it was sort of stressed at the roots 'cause of her bun, and it _definitely_ was not in raven-black tresses."

"Pale pink lips."

"Perfect body."

"She's wearing _leather._"

They stopped to stare. Who wore leather to sleep?

"And…Fae?"

A pause.

"Is it just me, or are her ears pointy?"

"You don't think…"

A _horrified _pause.

"That she's turning into a Mary-Sue?"

* * *


End file.
